


27 Secrets

by Otoshigo



Series: MLB - Oneshots [11]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Comedy, Drama, F/M, Romance, naughty chat, shameless marichat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 17:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12194331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otoshigo/pseuds/Otoshigo
Summary: “Secrets,” Chat purred, waving the photo out like a little flag. “I want secrets. Twenty-seven pictures worth of secrets. And you’ll give them to me. One picture at a time.” [Shameless Marichat]





	27 Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why it's always so difficult for me to pick a genre on my fics. Oh well.

 

Marinette noticed it right after Puppeteer.

Something was... amiss in her room. It took her a few moments to realize it, other than the unsettling feeling that something was off. Then it hit her. All her pictures of Adrien were gone. Vamoosed. Vanished. She stared at the blank space over her computer in horror before she screamed, “Maman! Maman~!”

Her mother looked up from the bottom of the stairs to her daughter’s distressed cries. “Marinette? Marinette, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” she fretted.

“Where’s all my pictures of Adri- I mean all my fashion pictures?!” Marinette demanded. Because really, who  _ else _ would have gone into her room to take them down?

Sabine frowned, now that it was clear that her daughter wasn’t in any kind of danger and that she was apparently being accused of something. “I didn’t touch anything in your room. Are you sure you didn’t throw away the pictures by accident?”

“I wouldn’t throw them away!” Marinette cried, her voice raising with heat.

“Well, I did not touch them!” her mother declared, before deciding she was done with the conversation. “If you need me, I’ll be down in the bakery,” she called, voice growing distant as she headed down to the shop.

Marinette pursed her lips in displeasure. But just in case, she dove into her trash bin to search for the pictures. Then into all her drawers, underneath her pillow, her chaise, in her pockets, everywhere. No dice. No sign of her pictures anywhere.

In a panic, she called Alya.

_ “What? Why would I have your crush pictures?”  _ her bestie said over the phone.  _ “I wouldn’t even do that as a prank. Although you gotta admit, that would be a pretty epic prank,”  _ she added in an underbreath.

“Alya!” Marinette cried.

_ “I’m totally serious! I didn’t do it! Swear on all of Chat’s nine lives.” _

“Don’t swear on someone else’s lives!” the designer huffed, although she believed her. Alya wouldn’t do such a thing. Her best friend was bossy and stubborn, but she wasn’t dishonest or needlessly cruel.

But then  _ who? _

Her answer came one evening with a knock.

A knock at her window as it so happened. It was late. Nearly midnight, when she came down from her panicked high to realize she hadn’t done any homework or studied for her test in the afternoon. Which left her frantically studying up until the wee hours of the morning. Until she was interrupted at least. 

The knock sounded again.

Marinette looked up from her homework, startled to see two green glowing eyes in the darkness. “Chat?” she called, recognizing that very familiar slant to the eyes. Her partner let himself inside, unlocking her window latch a little bit too easily for her liking.

The black-clad superhero wasn’t quite himself as he entered her room. He slipped in like a shadow and when he looked at her, it was as though he were studying her under a microscope like a bug.

“Chat?” she repeated, not getting a good feeling from this at all. Had he somehow discovered her identity? Was he disappointed? Still considering?

It was none of those things. He pulled one hand out from behind his back, holding out an all too familiar cut out of MODE fall edition. “Missing something?” he asked lightly, holding the picture out like bait.

The blood drained from Marinette’s face. “How did- When did-!” she cried, bolting from her seat to try to grab the incriminating photo from him. “You stole my pictures?!”

Chat Noir effortlessly played keepaway with the cutout, making her wish desperately that she could just whip out her Miraculous and show him what-for. However, that wasn’t in the cards, which left her glaring at her partner with an ineffectual scowl.

“They were begging to be stolen,” the cat replied, glancing to the photo in his hand. “I’ll admit, I was a little surprised to see that my number one fan had a shrine to another boy in her room. It does explain a few things, though.” Before Marinette could ask what  _ that _ meant, Chat leaned in close to her, “Thing of it is, it would be  _ nothing _ for me to put me in this Adrien Agreste boy’s room with an adequate explanation of where they came from. But I’m guessing that’s not something that you want. Is it, Prrincess?”

Marinette went white, as she thought of the horrifying implications. That Adrien would figure out that she had a crush- a very stalker-ish crush. She would never be able to look him in the eye ever again! Why? Why would Chat do that?!

“What are you-” The realization hit her like a wrecking ball. “Are you blackmailing me?!” Marinette shrilled incredulously. Oh, she knew that Chat was a special kind of scoundrel, but this really- this took the cake!

“Mmm~ Yes, I suppose I am,” Chat replied, with no small amount of wicked glee as he grinned widely at her. “How about it, Prrincess? Twenty-seven incriminating pictures of Adrien up on your wall. And I only have one on me. What are you willing to trade me just for this one picture?”

“I-I have cookies downstairs...?” Marinette tried, but to no avail.

“Oh, I was thinking something a little bit more precious than pastries. Even delicious as they are,” the cat said with a sly smile. Looking all the world like the Cheshire Cat. He tapped a claw against his chin, making some mock show of thinking up his bribery item. “I want~ Information.”

The designer blanched. “What?”

“Secrets,” Chat purred, waving the photo out like a little flag. Marinette snatched at it, but it was stolen away just in time. “I want secrets. Twenty-seven pictures worth of secrets. And you’ll give them to me. One picture at a time.”

Marinette grit her teeth, her eyes blazing with fire as she thought of all the very worst of her partner. Oh, if he just  _ knew _ who he was messing with. Unfortunately, that wasn’t something that she could give away so easily. Especially with what an incorrigible fiend he turned out to be. That didn’t stop her from speaking her mind, “You- you cat thief! You scoundrel! I can’t believe you would do something like this!”

Chat put a hand over his heart, letting out a mock gasp. “Oh, my poor heart...  _ not.”  _ His lips twisted into a smirk. “You’re right. I’m not a perfect little angel. Not like your darling Adrien,” he said as he waved the picture threateningly once more. “So, Prrincess? Do we have a deal?”

She didn’t really have a choice. She  _ couldn’t _ let Adrien find out about the pictures. Reluctantly, she nodded, her face still set into an angry scowl.

“Oh, what’s that look for?” Chat Noir laughed. He casually set himself down on Marinette’s chaise, as comfortably as if he were invited. “This might even be a little fun.”

_ Fun for who? _ Marinette wondered.

“Don’t worry, I’ll start you on something easy,” the cat said, leaning forward with a smile. “What is your perfect first date?”

The designer gave a short start. Her eyes glanced her boy over, wondering if he had some kind of ulterior motive for asking, or if he knew something. Judging from the teasing grin, though, it looked like he just wanted to embarrass her. A blush darkened her cheeks, seeing as Chat could probably guess who she was envisioning this first date would be with. 

“I... something simple,” she mumbled, fidgeting uncomfortably under Chat’s scrutiny. “A picnic at Buttes-Chaumont. Someplace where we could just relax and talk. Maybe take a walk to look at the waterfalls. Take a boat ride. Whatever. Be spontaneous.” If there was anything that would wind Adrien up, it would probably be more plans and schedules. She would want him just to relax, especially around her. She would be happy enough just to be in his company. ...Okay, maybe a first kiss here and some hand-holding there...

“Sounds nice,” Chat said idly, though Marinette had the odd feeling he was keeping his expression neutral on purpose. It was impossible to read what he was thinking. Then in a more exuberant tone, he said, “Well, Prrincess, I do believe that you earned your first reward.” Jumping up from the chaise, he bowed and presented the photo to her like an offering. Marinette snatched it away from him before he could change his mind, eliciting a small chuckle from the cat. “Alas, I have no more pictures on me right now, Prrincess. I’ll be sure to come by with some more later.” With a wink, he gave her a little salute before he hopped back onto the window ledge. “Til next time.” With that, he slipped away out into the dark night.

Wait. Some? He wasn’t bringing all the rest next time? Marinette stared at the open window, her jaw slack. “How long is he going to drag this out?!” she demanded, as Tikki emerged from her hiding spot.

“I don’t know,” her kwami confessed, before her small face formed a moue of disapproval. “I have to say, I’m very disappointed in that boy. How- how  _ despicable  _ of him to take advantage of a girl’s loving heart like that.”

“Yeah, well, I knew he was a cad from the start,” Marinette said darkly. “He’s just finally showing his true colors.” With a heavy sigh, the young designer sank down into her chair to look at the homework she still had yet to complete. Honestly, she probably wasn’t going to be getting to it tonight. “Let’s just hope that he keeps his word.” After all, she was going to have to face Adrien the very next day.

“And that he doesn’t ask any dangerous questions,” Tikki added, under her breath.

~o~

School the next day was awkward as all hell. Honestly though, when wasn’t it awkward? She couldn’t even look at Adrien, much less try to talk to him. Meanwhile, the test (which she bombed), fencing and Nino kept the model perfectly distracted. So really, it was a pretty typical day.

That evening, however, Chat came with three more photos.

Marinette glared at him as she sat cross-legged on top of her chaise, while Chat made himself at home in her room. “You didn’t put that other picture back up,” he noted, surveying the still blank space over her computer.

“As if I would leave it out after you came and snatched them all up,” the designer huffed. Currently, it was hidden away in her diary box, but she was going to have to build another trap box once she got all the rest. She looked to the cut-outs in his claws. “So what ‘secrets’ do you want from me this time?” she asked, nodding to the pictures.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Chat said, taking her chair and wheeling over to her. A wicked grin spread over his lips, as he held out one of her favorites. Limited print, swimsuit edition. No images available online. She  _ looked.  _ “This one is going to cost you.”

Marinette swallowed. Oh no.

“What is your most embarrassing memory?” the diabolical cat demanded, his green eyes glittering with glee.

The designer’s face went bright red. “What?”

“Tell me~” Chat said, waving the picture like a treat.

_ Ugh, this evil-! _ “Fine!” she hissed, folding her arms over her chest. “Just- don’t laugh!” The memory burned even as it came to the forefront of her mind. It was like burning mind vomit bile. Her blush only growing worse, she said, “In ecole, we did a school play-”

“And you were the princess?” Chat asked, grinning wide.

“Chloe was the princess. ...I was the tree,” the designer replied flatly. “Anyway, we’re in the middle of the final scene and my foot fell asleep. I went off balance, I fell over and knocked over a bunch of other people and the backdrop. Everyone in the auditorium laughed their butts off. I was never more humiliated in my life. To this day, Chloe still blames me for ruining her acting debut.”

Chat blinked. Then just as Marinette feared, he began to chortle and then broke out into uproarious laughter. “You’re laughing!” she accused, smacking him with a throw pillow, as he nearly toppled out of her chair. “Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry! Sorry!” he cried, giggling madly as he held his hands up in defense. “Oh poor you! What a cat-astrophe! And Chloe!” At this, he only began to laugh more, turning an alarming shade of red. “I can just imagine this poofy little puffball of a princess, throwing a hissy fit! So funny-!”

Unwillingly, the corner of Marinette’s mouth began to twitch. Think what she may about Chat, but his laughter was positively infectious. “...I suppose that it was mildly amusing,” she admitted begrudgingly, looking at the Chloe aspect in a different lens. “Especially when she hit our teacher with her hat because she wouldn’t punish me.”

“She  _ didn’t,” _ Chat gasped, bright and jovial. “Oh, no, of course, she did! We are talking about Chloe Bourgeois here.”

“She hasn’t really changed much,” Marinette said with a smirk.

“Unlike you.”

The designer blinked at that, before Chat clarified, “You’re not a tree, Marinette. At least not anymore.” His words were warm, almost affectionate. So was his smile.

Marinette stared at the superhero, a warmth spreading over her cheeks. Chat was... being sweet. She didn’t know what to do with this. That was when her eyes caught onto the pictures in her partner’s hand and she remembered just why he was here. “Did I earn my picture?” she asked sardonically.

Chat started softly, as if he had forgotten his purpose here as well. With a sheepish smile, he handed it over. She snatched it away, holding the precious picture against her chest.

“So what else do you want?” she demanded.

“...I’ll let you off light today,” Chat replied oh so magnanimously. He leaned forward in his seat. “What’s your favorite food? Your favorite tv show?”

“...Noodles and Ouran,” Marinette answered. She swiftly snatched the proffered pictures away. “You better not show the rest of those to Adrien!”

“Never fear. I’ll keep them safe,” the cat said with a smirk. He headed to the window again, his leather tail whisking back and forth as he walked. It had a rather hypnotic quality about it. “Pleasure doing business with you, Prrincess,” he called as he headed out into the night.

After he was gone, Tikki peeked out. “...Marinette, were you looking at his butt?” she asked, giving her chosen a raised eyebrow.

“Wh-WHAT?!” the designer shrilled, her entire face turning bright red. “No! I wasn’t- NO! It was just his tail! I was looking at his tail!”

~o~

“Hey, Marinette. Does your father make Buche de Noel?”

The designer thought the question was particularly odd. Considering that it was April. Yet she had absolutely no defenses against Adrien’s angelic face. “Er, um, yes! Yes, he makes them all the time during the holidays. We get lots of orders for it.” She frowned at the blond. “...Why, did you want to order one...? I mean, it’s a little early...?”

“Oh, me?” Adrien blinked. Then he laughed softly to himself in that self-deprecating manner he did, “No, it was just a goofy question. Sorry.” He turned his attention back to the front of the class, a tiny smile on his face.

Marinette looked to Alya, who only shrugged at the odd behavior.

It was just a good thing he stopped randomly laughing all morning. Particularly when he glanced over at his childhood friend.

~o~

“What’s your favorite memory?”

They were on picture ten. Except for question two, Chat’s search for secrets had been mostly harmless. Intensely personal, sure. Stuff that one shared at a slumber party with your best friend for example. Marinette was starting to think that Chat Noir was trying to vie for Alya’s position.

“Making baozi with Maman and Papa,” Marinette answered, snatching her latest picture away to join the others. She was in her usual spot on her chaise, while Chat occupied her computer chair.

When she didn’t elaborate, Chat pressed, “Well, why?”

The designer looked to the superhero’s empty claws. “You’re all out of pictures.”

Chat let out an annoyed noise that sounded very much like a huffy mewl. “You really don’t want to tell me?” he asked, inching his chair closer as he gave her the best kitten-eyes he could muster.

Marinette let out a bark of laughter. “Not when you’re blackmailing me.”

“Then I’ll give you one extra next time.”

“Two.”

“Two?” Chat asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Interest,” the designer said lightly. “Or you could just wait until next time to get your answer. But something tells me you like instant gratification.” She couldn’t help but smile at the faint blush that spread over Chat’s cheeks, partially hidden by his mask. Oh, but she had this boy’s number. It was just unfortunate he also had hers (17 more of hers to be exact). 

“Fine, two,” the cat agreed. As she knew he would.

Supposing she could make it a good story, Marinette revived the old, treasured memory. She smiled as she remembered, remembering the damp and the smell of steamed dough. “I was young, maybe six or seven. It was rainy out and neither of my parents were busy. Maman wanted to make custard baozi, so we tried to make them. Papa was amazing at making the dough of course, but when it came to steaming them...” She let out a small laugh. “They came out like gum. Papa was so frustrated.  _ ‘I’m a baker not a steamer,’ _ he huffed after our seventh failed batch. Maman and I still tease him to this day.”

Chat stared at her, enraptured. He was silent long enough that Marinette cast him a questioning look. “Something wrong?”

“N-no,” the black-clad boy replied. He coughed into a fist. “Nothing’s wrong. You’re just... compelling, when you tell stories you love. You look happy. It’s nice.”

“I’m sure you’d look happy too, if you were talking about something that you loved,” Marinette said. All this talk did make her wonder though. So she asked just for the heck of it, “So, what’s your favorite memory, Chat?”

Chat let out a laugh. “Why am I getting interrogated? Are you trying to figure out my secret identity?” he teased, leaning in close to Marinette as he waggled his eyebrows.

The designer only pushed him away. “As if!” she scoffed, while Chat only laughed. “You’ve been asking so much stuff about me! It gets boring being the one talking all the time.”

“Okay, okay,” the cat grinned, “I feel like I should be taking a picture back for this, but I’ll bite.” Looking up in thought, he conjured the memory. His eyes grew wistful as it came to him, as though he were looking at a film. “My favorite memory is going to the parc with my mother. I was young too. Funny how that works. It was so sunny outside, everything felt like it was glowing. I think I spent a whole hour just chasing butterflies.”

Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the image. A tiny Chat, a kitten basically, chasing butterflies in the parc. It was too cute for words. (And terribly ironic.)

“It was the best day,” Chat continued on, caught up in his own world. “We didn’t go back home until the sun started to set. Then I picked a bunch of flowers for my mother, because I wanted her to make her smile. And I remember... She took my hands and said,  _ ‘Don’t pick the flowers, mon ange. You mustn’t pick the flowers or they’ll die.’ _ ”

Suddenly, he didn’t look so happy anymore. His lips had twisted into a bittersweet smile and his eyes were full of heartbreak. Marinette stared at him, her heart wrenching at the way he suddenly shuttered. Without really thinking, she stepped up and wrapped Chat up into a hug, startling him out of his reverie. “P-Prrincess?” he stammered, as she hugged his cheek against her shoulder. “Why are you- I was telling you a happy memory.”

“Then why did it look like you were about to cry?” she asked softly, her own eyes growing misty.

Chat said nothing. She didn’t expect him to. However, he made no move to dislodge her from him. A silent admission that, yes, he hurt, even though he wouldn’t let himself cry. She didn’t know if it was strength or something else. Eventually, his arms closed around her waist to give her a quick squeeze of gratitude and to signal to let go. Gently pushing her away, he said quietly, “Thank you.”

With scarcely another word or whisper, Chat was suddenly gone. Fleeing out the window before Marinette could say anything else. She looked out into the lit street, watching the shadows for any sign of movement. She wondered again, why Chat was doing all of this. Why he was asking all these questions. Then it occurred to her.

Maybe he was lonely.

~o~

Something shifted between them, the next time Chat came over with his pictures.

For one, there was a plate of cookies waiting for him when he arrived. His green eyes lit up when he saw them and he broke into a wide grin. “For me?” he asked, and let out a small hoot of happiness when she nodded affirmation.

For another, Marinette wasn’t quite so defensive with her answers anymore. Not quite so begrudging, even though Chat completely went about this the wrong way in getting her to open up to him in the first place. Now he treated her less like an interrogation prisoner and more like a friend. There was probably some psychological reason for that, but she didn’t really want to think about it.

Moreover, the questions attached to the pictures continued to be relatively innocent. Even warm and amicable, with Chat answering many of his own questions for her, while they ate cookies.

“Where would you like to travel?”

“What do you want to do when you graduate?”

“What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever eaten?”  _ (Boys. Sigh.) _

“If you had to lose one of your senses forever, what would it be?”

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

Suddenly, they were not so warm and amicable.

Marinette tensed as the question was thrown at her out of the blue. With picture seventeen in the balance. The last in Chat’s pile for that night. However, the cat’s tone wasn’t nearly as mischievous as it was when he got deeply personal on her before. In fact, he seemed... cautious. Careful. Like he was trying to disable a bomb.

“Well, yeah,” the designer said awkwardly, looking to the picture of Adrien in a black hoodie held between Chat’s claws. She nodded to it. “You don’t have 27 pictures of someone in your room because you  _ don’t _ have a crush on them.”

Chat started at that, blinking as he looked at the picture as though he’d completely forgotten about it. Then he let out a bark of laughter, his cheeks turning rosy with embarrassment. “Wow, that was a dumb question,” he said, running a hand back through his hair in a strangely nervous gesture. “Could I get a do-over?”

“Nope,” Marinette said simply, snatching the picture away from him. “Not with anything love related. You’re out of luck.”

“Ah, and my never-ending battle with Lady Luck continues,” Chat sighed, snatching the last cookie off the plate as he stood. Idly, he asked, “Don’t you want to know if I have a crush on someone?”

Marinette smirked up at him. “Oh, let me guess: Raven hair, blue eyes, strong, confident, wicked sense of humor?”

Chat choked on his cookie. His face was bright red as he whirled on the designer. “How did you-”

A laugh escaped her at her partner’s flustered state. “Oh come on, Chat. Ladybug? You’re not the only person to crush on her. Plus you work with her all the time. It’s not exactly a big leap.” Plus she did have her own insight into the matter. Chat Noir was more than a little obvious about it.

Chat echoed with his own laugh, although it was strained. “Ah, right. Ladybug. Of course. L-Ladybug. W-well-! I better go and uh, do very heroic, superhero stuff.” He quickly scarfed down the rest of his cookie, making his way back to his exit. For some reason, all his feline grace had flown out the window before him. His foot caught onto the wheeled bottom of the computer chair, then he tripped over his own tail. He stumbled forward, catching the window ledge before he managed to tumble right out of it. Bent forward, he tapped the window ledge experimentally to see if it would give, before he gave the designer a sheepish smile over his shoulder. “Just pretend you never saw that.”

“Oh no,  _ never,” _ Marinette swore in mock-gravity, putting a hand over her heart. It’s not like she didn’t have her share of embarrassing spills.

Chat grinned, his cheeks still a rosy hue. “I’ll hold you to that. Later, Prrincess!” With that, he was gone, off to his kitty-lair.

Marinette smiled to herself. Okay,  _ then _ she had been checking out Chat’s ass.

~o~

The next morning, Marinette barely made it to class on time. Her late night chats with uh, Chat, were not helping her wake up to her three different alarm clocks. Dashing into class right at the last minute, she skidded in with seconds to spare. “I’m here!” she declared, right before she tripped on the step up to her seat. Her things went flying, spilling all over the floor. (Which is when she realized that she forgot her math book, damn it.)

Hastily, with a smarting shin, she picked her things up. Which is when she noticed another set of hands helping her. She looked up, looking straight into Adrien’s bright green eyes. “Gah!” she cried, falling back on her ass. It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t expecting it!

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you,” Adrien said with a sheepish smile, passing off the rest of her things on top of her desk. He held out a hand, helping a blushing and mortified Marinette up to her feet. His hand lingered on hers a pause too long, his eyes searching hers. “Hey, Marinette-”

“Everyone, please take your seats,” Mme Bustier called out, cutting the model short. “I hope that you all had a chance to look at the news this morning. We have a current events pop quiz.” All conversation was completely forgotten as a collective groan went through the classroom.

~o~

The next evening, Chat spent an extraordinary amount of time not talking.

This was unheard of.

Gah, she was even making up bad puns in her head to fill the void.

What her partner did instead was fidget as he flipped through his stack of pictures. It looked like it might be nearly all the rest of them. Apparently, Chat Noir had quite a few secrets he wanted to collect on. Maybe he was just summoning up the courage.

“So... did you want a cookie?” she asked, looking at the rather tempting pile of cutouts. When he said nothing, she pressed, “Hot chocolate? Tea?” 

“Do you like me?”

The question caught her completely off guard. “Um, what?”

Chat passed her a picture and gave her an expectant look. She wasn’t exactly about to demand a picture for  _ that,  _ but she wasn’t about to turn it down either. “You’re alright, I suppose,” she replied as she slid the picture beside her.

“Just alright?” Chat pouted.

“Maybe if you weren’t blackmailing me, I’d upgrade you,” Marinette replied, stealing away another picture just for that. If the cat was getting into the bad habit of asking silly questions, then she’d have to penalize him for it.

“What do you like about me?”

And the trend continued.

Marinette looked up in thought, making a big show of thinking it over. “Well, I suppose that you are doing good for Paris. So there’s that. You do an okay job of watching Ladybug’s back.” She watched the pout grow on Chat’s face and she couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, you’re also kind of a goofball.”

Chat grinned wide. “Oh, so you like my jokes?”

“Your jokes can be clever,” Marinette admitted, rolling her eyes as she stole yet another picture, “when you’re trying not to force them.” In fact, she had laughed out loud at her partner’s off-the-cuff humor far more than any ‘funny’ pickup lines or puns he ever pushed. “It’s more your energy that I like.” At his blank look, she laughed, “Not like qi or anything. Just... you have a lightness about you. You’re fun to be around. And so earnest and excitable. You’re very cute.”

Marinette froze when the words left her mouth. Chat similarly stared at her, his eyes widening. “No! I mean-!” she stammered, “It’s cute! It’s very cute what you do. Not that  _ you’re _ cute. I mean, how would I even know? You’re wearing a mask all the time. You could be butt-ugly for all I know.”

A sly grin spread over Chat’s lips. Too late. It was probably going straight to his head right then. “Ah, but Prrincess, I can assure you I am very ‘cute’ underneath the mask,” he teased, forgetting all about the pictures as he leaned forward, cutting into Marinette’s personal space. Looking perfectly smug, he framed his face with his hand and said airily, “In fact, I dare say that if you saw me without the mask, you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”

The designer scoffed at that and shoved him away. “Save your flirting for someone else, Chat!” she fumed. There was the annoying side she so despised. Worse, she was annoyed with herself for the slip of the tongue. “You already know I have a crush on Adrien.”

If anything, Chat’s wicked smile only grew. “Ah, yes, your golden boy,” he said, as he ever so subtly slipped over onto the chaise next to her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer a bad boy instead?” he purred, letting the words ripple against her ear.

Marinette’s cheeks heated from the sheer proximity of him, feeling exposed without her own suit on. “You really don’t know how to take no for an answer, do you?” she growled, shoving him away once again. She froze when he snapped another picture in front of her face.

“I’ll rephrase,” he said. “If Adrien wasn’t in the picture, then would you be interested in me?”

Marinette stared past the picture to him. To the expectant look in his eyes. To the underthread of anxiety, despite all his bravado. This was... a very dangerous question. “...I forfeit.”

Chat blinked. “Forfeit?”

“Yeah, I forfeit,” she replied. “Keep the picture for another question.”

Chat leaned back, a frown penetrating his teasing expression. Then, as if he were struck with an evil arrow, his dark smile came back in full force. “Prrincess, I think you’re forgetting what happens if you refuse to answer my questions.”

_ What happens if... _ Marinette went cold. Oh no! Adrien! “No! Don’t give them to him!” she cried, suddenly trying to snatch the rest of the pictures away. How many did Chat have left? Six? Six was still too incriminating for one boy, wasn’t it? Which he dangled away from her with that loathsome smug grin on his face.

“Hmm~ I suppose I  _ could _ take a penalty instead,” the cat mused, pressing a speculative finger against his chin. Oblivious as always to the meaning of personal space, Chat leaned in again, “I’ll give you all the rest of these, if you kiss me.”

Marinette physically balked. “W-what?!”

“A kiss,” Chat replied, “or I drop these off in Adrien’s room. It’s your pick, Prrincess.”

Marinette stared at him. Pure unadulterated outrage boiled up inside her, twisting whatever friendly affection she might have for Chat Noir into utter contempt. He didn’t seem to notice the way that her eyes darkened, the way that her fists clenched. She could argue that he was asking for it, when he leaned forward and tapped his cheek. “Go on, Prrincess. One quick smooch. Perfectly painless.”

Her open palm slapped him across the face instead. The cat reeled from the impact, looking up at her with wide-eyed startelement. A small slap like that couldn’t hurt him, but somehow he looked as though he’d just been struck with the full weight of the Tour Eiffel.

Panting softly, barely keeping her fury in check, Marinette hissed, “Does that answer your question?” She snatched a picture away from his slack claws, before she snarled, “Go on. What else do you want to know, Chat Noir? Tell me. My first kiss? How many moles I have? Oh better, my first period. When did that happen? Come on, how else do you want to pry into my personal life!”

Chat only stared helplessly at her, his mouth bobbing as he tried to formulate a word, even a sound.

Unaware of how loudly she’d been yelling, Marinette faltered when she heard her mother’s voice call from below. “Marinette? Marinette, is everything alright?” Sabine’s muffled voice came from below. Marinette looked away for just a moment in distraction. When she looked back to Chat, he was gone. The only sign that he had been there was the open windowsill.

~o~

Marinette couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. Anger and guilt had kept her up the whole night. Oh, her partner deserved getting slapped. If there was anything worth getting slapped over, that was it. Yet she felt guilty for it all the same. Not even for any good reason.

As it was, she didn’t need an alarm clock to wake her the next morning, since she never actually made it to sleep. She was out the door nearly an hour early, unable to stand sticking around in her empty room any longer. Some faculty milled about, pleasantly surprised to see her, but the place was otherwise empty.

Or so she thought, when she headed over to the locker room to sort through her books. Some faint movement sounded in the acoustics of the empty room, making her pause. Who else was here early? Treading as lightly as she could, she followed the sound and realized that it was coming from near her locker.

Marinette turned the corner and started in surprise when she found none other than Adrien Agreste trying to slip something into her locker. “A-Adrien?” she called, catching his attention.

Apparently, he wasn’t expecting anyone either, as the blond nearly jumped out of his skin. The envelope slipped from his fingers, as he whirled towards her with a panicked look in his eyes. “M-Marinette! Hi-! I wasn’t-! This wasn’t-!” he cried, but the designer’s attention wasn’t on him. It was on the open envelope on the ground, the corners of some all too familiar pictures poking out into view from the fall.

Marinette’s blood turned to ice, her entire body frozen as she stared at the pictures.

When he realized just what she was looking at, Adrien turned as green as his eyes. Hastily, he scooped the pictures up and tucked them carefully into the envelope again. His hands shook when he held it out to her, looking for all the world like he wanted to crawl up into a hole and never see the light of day again. “Marinette. Marinette, I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to- I never wanted you to know I had these. I just wanted to give them back to you. I swear. I-I think it’s cute, honest. I’m very flattered. S-so, please, just take them back?”

Marinette regarded him, still frozen where she stood. It was all for nothing. All that harassment, all that trouble. All the late nights and intrusive questions. Ruining any chance of- of friendship between her and Chat. He just did it anyway. He outed her crush in the most horrible, soul-crushingly humiliating way possible. 

Somehow, Adrien trying to comfort and console her was just making it even worse. Like he  _ pitied _ her. Her mouth twisted, chin beginning to tremble and she hiccuped. No. No, she wouldn’t cry. She  _ couldn’t. _ Instead, she snatched the envelope from Adrien’s hands and spun on her heel. Without looking back, she fled from school and ran straight back to her house. Not to return again for the rest of the day.

~o~

She should have known she hadn’t seen the last of Chat Noir.

Still stewing with humiliation and self-pity, her wounded heart wasn’t ready for his silhouette to darken her window again. Yet it did, two nights later. With a meek  _ tap-tap _ on the window pane.

Buried in her blankets, Marinette looked down from her loft. A flash of fury went right through her, when she spotted the familiar green eyes and kitten ears. The gall! The unbelievable gall of this disgusting, incorrigible, treacherous scoundrel!

“Marinette. Marinette, just ignore him,” Tikki whispered from her place on her pillow. Like the angel of good sense. However, Marinette had no interest in being sensible, as she threw her blankets aside and stormed down to the window, where the cat awaited.

Chat Noir flashed her a sheepish smile for all of one second, before it withered under the burning fury in Marinette’s gaze. “You gave him my pictures!” she hissed, her lips pinned back into a snarl.

“I... technically, I didn’t,” the black-clad boy replied quickly. When Marinette opened her mouth to yell again, he cried, “Please, I come in peace!” He held up a thick book in his hands, shielding himself from her.

The designer squinted at the book. A gasp escaped her as she recognized it immediately. A limited first edition of Gabriel Agreste’s early designs, all compiled into a beautiful catalog. Everyone who was anyone in fashion design would salivate to have such a book in their collection. In awe, Marinette reached out for it, before she stopped halfway. “...Did you steal this?” she demanded, giving Chat a suspicious glare.

“Ummm... it was lying around,” Chat replied, not all that convincingly. “It won’t be missed, I swear. I also have this.” He slid out a crisp professional brochure out from behind it and Marinette let out an even louder gasp. It was Adrien’s professional modeling portfolio. He probably didn’t need to use it much, since he was already a starling in his father’s company, but it looked  _ gorgeous _ and she knew it had all kinds of information needed for photographers and designers.

All kinds of...  _ personal _ information.

“I... I can’t take  _ that,” _ Marinette said, her cheeks heating at the thought. If she went through it, she’d know all kinds of things such as any so-called ‘irregularities’, and his weight, height, and  _ all _ his measurements.

“You should,” Chat pressed. He took a look at his precarious position and said, “Can I come in?”

Marinette hesitated. She had every right to shove the window in his face. His very contrite face. Against all her better judgment, she let out a resigned sigh and stepped to the side. Chat slinked in, holding his prizes close to the vest. He settled into his old seat, looking more nervous than she’d ever seen him.

“I have two questions,” he said, as he tapped his claws along the tops of the books.

Her jaw set into a dark grimace. “I think you lost your right to that.”

“I know, but it’s important,” Chat replied. He handed the Gabriel Agreste print book to her preemptively. “When?”

“When, what?” she asked.

“When did you start to crush on Adrien?”

Marinette blanched at the question. This was just about as invasive as they came. “I... How does this affect you?” she demanded. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because it matters. Because I need to know,” Chat insisted. It didn’t look like he was going to let up. Instead his gaze grew all the more intense. “Please tell me.”

Some of the grudging resentment returned, but Marinette grit out, “On our second day of school. When he offered me his umbrella.”

Chat stared at her. “Why?”

“Is that your second question?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Feeling grossly uncomfortable, Marinette replied, “Because he’s honest. And he’s earnest. He’s also sweet.” Oh, but she could go on and on about Adrien Agreste. She just didn’t enjoy it being dragged out of her as painfully as pulling teeth.

“He’s not.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“He’s not honest,” Chat clarified. He played with the portfolio, looking down at the angelic face mocking him from its pages. “He’s the furthest thing from it. And yet...” Letting out a sigh, he muttered, “I can’t compete with an idea.”

The designer regarded Chat, her anger dulled down to a low simmer. “Chat,  _ you  _ are an idea. Just like Ladybug. You’re a symbol. A hero.”

“Not to you,” he insisted. Wheeling himself forward, he reached out to take her hands, but then seemed to think better of it. His hands were left in his lap, picking at the edge of the brochure. “You must think all kinds of things about me, but I’m pretty sure an ‘idea’ isn’t one of them.”

Marinette said nothing. It was true. It was also true that she thought the very most unflattering things about him.

When it became clear that she wasn’t going to say anything, Chat gave it up. Passing off the precious brochure, he swung himself out of the chair and headed to the window. When he was there, he looked over his shoulder and said, “I’m really sorry, Marinette. I really like you. More than I thought I would. I’m sorry I messed it all up.” As he slipped out, he promised, “I won’t bother you again.”

A strange sense of deja vu came over Marinette. Like she’d experienced this before. However, Chat was already gone, disappeared into the night.

~o~

Chat Noir did not return. Several nights passed before Marinette figured that he really was going to make due on his promise. She should have felt relief, to have her relatively quiet nights back again. Yet she couldn’t get this nagging feeling out of the back of her mind.

They met up again once, with her as Ladybug, fighting off an akuma. However, she could tell that his heart wasn’t really in it. His puns were forced and so was his smile. He left early, without trying to make a pass at her. It was unsettling.

Then she looked at Adrien, once her own mortification passed, and he could barely look at her either. She didn’t think it was because of the pictures. In the end, there were only six, which was still in the ‘cute’ stage and not the ‘stalker’ stage. There was something there. Something connecting them.

One day, it came to her.

It was a sunny day. The type of day when everything seemed to glow with light. She was passing by the parc on her way home and she happened to see Adrien out with his photographers. She stopped, of course. Old habits die hard. He smiled brightly as he waved off his photographer for a break. The smile fell as soon as he took a bench.

Marinette debated going over for a half-minute. She decided against it, taking a step towards home. Which is when she saw the black butterfly.

Then it suddenly clicked.

“Adrien, no!” she shrieked, racing over to the bench. The blond blinked and looked up, his eyes going wide just as she pounced him. They both fell back hard against the bench before unceremoniously falling down to the ground. Somehow, they ended up in the very awkward position of Adrien straddling Marinette to the ground. Both their faces went bright red, unable to speak out of shock. Out of the blue, the butterfly landed delicately on top of Adrien’s head.

That was when Marinette saw that it was not a black butterfly, but a black and blue butterfly.

“Um... hi,” Adrien said awkwardly, his face still warm and his hair in a ruffled mess from the spill.

“Hi...” Marinette replied miserably, rubbing a hand over her face to hide it in shame. “Um, sorry. I thought- I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t ever have to apologize,” the blond said with a faint smile.

“Yeah, I do,” she mumbled, her eyes meeting his as she looked up at his handsome face. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you.”

Adrien’s breath hitched. His lovely green eyes only widened. “You-”

“Adrien!” a voice called, causing both teens to look over to the fountain and an irate photographer. “Adrien, you are a mess! Get up! Get up! Sebastian! Attend to him!” A flustered makeup artist came over, yanking Adrien up from the ground and off of Marinette.

“Wait, wait!” the model cried as he was summarily manhandled. He managed to escape their clutches long enough to help Marinette up from the ground. Grinning wide at her, his face glowed with delight. He took her face in his hands and kissed her solidly on the lips.

Marinette let out a small squeak of surprise, before she melted into it. Her fingers ran through his ruffled hair and down the nape of his neck, pulling him in closer. Adrien let out a small sound of pleasure, his lips stretched into a smile as he dove in for another. So wrapped up in each other, they were oblivious to everything and everyone but each other.

The photographer blinked at the rather heated public display, jaw slack. Inspiration struck. “Claude,” he called to his assistant. “Claude, get me the close angle lens!”


End file.
